OWEN’S POV

 

A few days later, I was nearing the end of my shift in the mines. By now I’d grown increasingly accustomed to the way the shovel felt in my furry paws, and sooner or later it would no longer hurt to lift up the dirt.

“How are you so good at finding the gemstones?” I challenged Aikan playfully, to which the Tepig merely laughed.

“You know,” he pointed out, “maybe it’s because of my nose. I can sniff them out like a canine team sniffs cocaine.”

I didn’t even laugh at that. Partly because of my jealousy, partly because there was still the minor matter of what I would do about my brother.

“In all seriousness,” Aikan continued, “it might not be that. It’s probably because I’m used to the job. That’s just a hunch, though.”

Just a hunch. Well, what I heard the other day about Officer Pratt’s plan isn’t “just a hunch.”

I sighed. “Fair enough.”

“You seem preoccupied,” Aikan perceived. “What’s going on?”

It needs to be said that by now, I had developed a tepid friendship with the Tepig. I wouldn’t yet say that I trusted him with my life, and certainly not with secrets such as what I’d harbored since I ended up in this underworld.

That being said, we were still cordial, and I laughed when he did. In that respect, we were getting close.

My shovel hit something hard, and I leaned back with all my might as I scooped it out of the dirt.

“It’s a ruby!” I exclaimed. “Aren’t they really precious?”

“Yeah, I suppose they are,” Aikan replied. “But then, can’t that be said about any gemstone?”

“You might be right,” I admitted. I set the ruby down in its pile, then kept digging until I fell through again.

The falls weren’t as jarring by now, and what was more, I had grown used to getting hoisted up by Aikan. So far our roles had not been reversed in that department, though if my “fall rate” was anything to go by, it was only a matter of time.

Once back on solid ground, I thanked Aikan again. 

“No problem” he said, grabbing my paw and pulling me away from that hole.

Luckily, the shift was almost over, and Foreman McCormick came over a few minutes later to notify us that we were free for the rest of the day. He did, however, comment on the ruby I’d unearthed.

“Wow, Owen Shinx. That one will be very valuable indeed. Forget making a C battery - it might be enough for a Z battery the size of a house!”

This actually generated a chuckle from me. But my laughter likely wouldn’t last long.

“In any case,” the foreman informed us, “you are both free for the day. And you don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here.”

Like we’d want to!

As we were walking out of the work cavern, Aikan had a suggestion.

“Why don’t we go out to dinner together?” he enquired. 

“I don’t know if you’d want to - “.

“Of course I do! Why wouldn’t I?” the Tepig wondered aloud.

“Well,” I responded, struggling to think of a reason why. “I live in the guild hall, you know - I’m not sure if I’ve told you that yet.”

Aikan didn’t seem surprised by that, let alone offended. “Why should I care? You’re still my colleague.”

“I guess so. And we can bond over both being troublemakers - what were you in for?”

The Tepig chuckled. “Well, I don’t know if I should tell you that. Maybe a couple drinks will loosen my lips.”

I glared at him.

“Okay!” Aikan exclaimed. “It wasn’t anything serious like murder. I’ll tell you that much, but the rest of it won’t be mentioned in public. They can still hear us in this cave; Pokémon ears are very sensitive, you know.”

“Right.”

We made our way past the dark river and the pennybun fields. The city of Ketchum spread out in the distance, steeples and clock towers and marketplaces that seemed to stretch on for miles. (Most likely, they did stretch on for miles.)

“The others will expect me to be back for dinner” I realized. “I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

“Bullshit” Aikan said. “They’ll be fine. I think you’re entitled to a day off from dinner with them, aren’t you?”

“I suppose” I mumbled, because really, I didn’t want to argue with the Tepig. I wanted to believe that I’d earned a treat.

Once we entered the city, I noticed that Aikan wasn’t leading me toward any part of it I’d been in before. I didn’t recognize many of the businesses - but then, for the most part, I’d only been leaving the guild hall to go to church or to the mines. The only exception, of course, had been that day when I’d overheard the talk between Sheriff Buckle and Officer Pratt - one highly belligerent, one only marginally less so.

It occurred to me that I should probably tell somebody about what I’d heard. Surely such a plot - to eliminate most of the people on the surface! - would warrant my friends’ attention.

Yet I hesitated. Now, considering we’d be in such a public place with dozens of Pokémon milling around at the markets, it sounded like a bad time to spill the beans. Moreover, there was no guarantee that Aikan wouldn’t be sympathetic to Officer Pratt’s goal. Didn’t everyone in Ketchum hate the surface?

“Hey, Aikan?” I began.

“What is it?” he asked, leading me down a side street. (On some level, I noticed that the buildings were becoming more upscale; or at least, they were better-maintained than the segments of the city nearest the guild hall.)

“Uh…” I trailed off. I hadn’t yet committed to telling the truth, and I realized that I still had time to back out.

“Meowth got your tongue?”

I shook my head. “Never mind. Just wondering where we were going. What’s the name of the restaurant?”

Aikan chuckled. “I’ll leave it a surprise until we’re there. Just know that it’s near where I live.”

It hadn’t occurred to me that Aikan was rich. Or at least, that he lived a more comfortable lifestyle than those in the guild hall. That raised another question: Was he unable to pay his way out of labor in the mines?

And that question led to yet another: What was his offense? It must have been pretty serious if he couldn’t bribe one of the police - I guess he wasn’t allowed to.

Still, there was no mistaking this area’s affluence. The clock tower in this neighborhood had a second hand, gradually moving around the Roman numeral-encrusted face. The stone didn’t look like it would cave in at any moment. In other words, if I didn’t accept that I was dealing with what passed for one of Ketchum’s “trust-fund children”, I was in denial.

“Here it is,” Aikan said after a while. “McAllister’s Pub.”

The pub the Tepig pointed at was far nicer than Ziggy Golem’s eatery. This one’s tiled floor was actually painted, and it didn’t smell that bad. Additionally, the interior was illuminated by a large number of the light orbs I’d grown used to seeing around the city.

As soon as the hostess, a Xatu, seated us, Aikan smiled. 

“Well, then,” he said. “Two workers, together at last for something that doesn’t involve work.”

I snorted. “I guess so.”

Soon enough, a waiter, also a Xatu, came by to take our drink orders. “I’ll have Mulligan’s Whiskey,” Aikan announced.

“Oh, I’ll just have water,” I said.

“Right” the waiter said cordially, heading off to retrieve our drinks.

We sat there for a few moments, neither of us speaking a word. Then it occurred to me to ask why it was called Mulligan’s Whiskey of all things.

Aikan snorted. “It’s called that because if you drink too much of it, it’ll make you forget something you don’t want to remember. In that regard, it’s like taking a mulligan on that event.”

“Interesting.”

“I mean,” the Tepig continued with a shrug, “don’t we all feel that way about something? Isn’t there one big event in each of our lives that we regret?”

With a sigh, I nodded. “Many of them.”

Like when I abandoned my brother back at the police precinct.

It occurred to me, right then and there, that now would have been the perfect time to tell Aikan what I’d overheard the other day. Perhaps it would also make sense to mention Matty’s predicament, if it wasn’t over yet one way or another.

But I didn’t. It was as though I were standing on the edge of a canyon, and to tell the Tepig the truth would be akin to a flying leap off the rim. In other words, a very, very bad idea.

“I noticed,” Aikan remarked, “that you didn’t order a drink.”

“I did. It’s called water.”

“No,” he responded with a chuckle. “I mean, you didn’t order anything alcoholic.”

“Well, I don’t like alcohol anyway. It burns my throat, it just hurts.”

Aikan shrugged. “It’s an acquired taste.”

“So they say, but I’m not sure if I’ll ever acquire it. Besides…”.

I didn’t finish that sentence. Aikan did not know about my recent bout with the virus, and it was probably best to keep it that way.

“Whatever” the Tepig said.

Just then, another question popped into my mind, grabbing me by the wrist and refusing to let go. “Aikan?”

“Yes?”

“Why do you have to work in the mines?”

The Tepig gave me a look that was half smile, half frown, if that’s even possible. “As in, what did I do?”

I nodded.

Aikan shrugged. “Well, I engaged in what some would say is a victimless crime. And I agree with that sentiment - it’s not like the cashier makes any money from the items at that store.”

“So, shoplifting,” I muttered.

He nodded. “I guess that’s what it was, but again, I hardly think it should be worthy of so much hard labor. I wasn’t even a repeat offender.”

“Uh-huh” I responded, not sure whether to believe Aikan’s line about having only shoplifted once. As far as I was concerned, stealing one small item from a store was like eating one potato chip - you’d always want more.

The waiter came back with our drinks. The water tasted like the tap water when I’d visited relatives in other parts of the U.S. - drinkable, but not preferred. Just different in a way I couldn’t explain. 

As soon as Aikan took a sip of his whiskey, he let out an audible, contented sigh, patting his belly.

“Don’t fill up on that stuff yet,” I said. “Food’s coming soon.”

“Have you even looked at the menu, Owen?”

I snorted. “You’ve got a point.”

Realizing the waiter was still standing there, I picked something that sounded not exactly good, but at least edible. I realized belatedly that Aikan probably knew what constituted “food” at this restaurant, but what did it matter? I’d likely never stop dreaming about the glorious food from the surface.

The conversation tapered off for a bit as both of us watched the world go by. Several other tables were occupied, which made me think that maybe this wasn’t the best place to admit that I’d once been human. 

Every time I opened my mouth to speak, I closed it again. Eventually, I grew convinced I would slip up and spill the beans that needed to stay in their proverbial pot under penalty of…well, maybe the penalty would indeed be death.

“So what did you get caught doing, Owen?” Aikan asked out of the blue.

I blinked, stunned by this sudden question. “What?”

“Well, you asked me why I ended up in the mines, so I figured I might as well return the favor. What was your heinous crime?”

I snorted. “Exploring the maze beneath the city.”

“Yeah…” Aikan grimaced. “It’s not the best place to venture if you value your sanity.”

“Supposedly Theseus - he’s basically the de facto leader of the guild hall - uses a trek through the Labyrinth as a rite of passage for the residents. Apparently he does that with everyone, we were just unlucky enough to get caught during my turn.”

“Damn,” Aikan said. “So you explored the vipers’ den and whatnot? Tell me, were there actual snakes there?”

Visions of that little adventure danced before my eyes, and I wanted to shriek. Just recalling those countless slithering creatures on the warpath was enough to send me into fight-or-flight mode.

No. I’m safe here. There’s no need to run away - if anything, it’ll make Aikan suspicious of you.

I shrugged. “I’d rather not talk about that.”

“I’ll take that as a yes, then” the Tepig responded with a giggle. “Must’ve made you wet your pants. Oh wait, you don’t wear pants.”

I rolled my eyes. “Not sure that’s funny.”

“Whatever” Aikan stated. “Anyway, how’s life at the guild hall? Made a lot of friends there?”

We made small talk for a while, which was easier said than done when there are so many things you needed to keep under wraps. Still, compared to how younger me had handled such conversations, it didn’t go too badly.

Eventually our food arrived, and I dug in right away. The faster I ate, the less I would taste it - that was my reasoning.

Aikan snorted. “Owen” he exclaimed, “you’re eating like you’ve never seen food before!”

I could hardly look up from my meal as I nodded. This caused the Tepig to chuckle again; apparently he found gluttony amusing. 

The food itself wasn’t anything to write home about - not that “writing home” was even within the realm of possibility for me. Still, I put on a happy face on the few occasions when I came up for air.

“Honestly,” Aikan said, “this is as good as it gets in Ketchum. This is the best restaurant in town.”

That’s probably not saying much, though.

When I’d finished my food, and Aikan was about halfway through with his, the ship that was this conversation steered into rough waters once more.

“So tell me, Owen,” Aikan began. “How did you get here?”

“Huh?” I asked. In reality, I was playing dumb here so that the Tepig might think I didn’t know what he was talking about. 

But Aikan saw right through me. “I mean,” he replied, “how did you end up in Ketchum? Not many Pokémon are able to get out, and no humans are able to get in these days.”

“Uh…” I began. “That’s another tough question.”

Aikan giggled. “Usually that’s a euphemism for ‘I don’t want to answer.’”

“Maybe it is,” I responded, “but what would be wrong with that if so?”

“Nothing, really,” Aikan stated. “But I think we can trust one another now. I’ve told you about my life, so why don’t you tell me about yours?”

“Well…” I felt my tail wag awkwardly against the seat. Somehow I still hadn’t gotten used to any of the realities of having such an appendage. But that wasn’t important at the moment.

“Long story, I take it?”

“Not quite,” I sighed. Suddenly the idea of telling Aikan the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth seemed so easy, so tempting. The aftermath, of course, would likely be anything but.

“I’ve got time.”

“Okay,” I said eventually. “You’ll take whatever secret I give you to the grave, right?”

“Yes,”' Aikan asserted, though his easy-going demeanor had vanished, to be replaced by a look of grim determination. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“Well then,” I replied, lowering my voice to little more than a whisper. “I woke up on a carriage not long ago…was it a week ago, or two weeks ago?”

“I wouldn’t know.” Aikan’s eyelids drooped suddenly out of what I assumed was concern.

“Actually, I think it’s closer to two now. Jesus - Arceus, how has it been so long?”

The Tepig shrugged. “Again, I wouldn’t know.”

During this time, I was acutely aware of the other patrons; the restaurant was, after all, getting busier as more and more Pokémon finished their shifts at work. But I still felt as though my whispers were hitting the magic number: Loud enough for Aikan to hear, but soft enough so that nobody else could.

“The point is, Aikan, I went to the police precinct and…” I trailed off. How much else should I tell him?

He shrugged. “I dunno, what happened at the police station?”

“Well,” I continued, “it’s the one run by Sheriff Buckle. You know him, right?”

“Yeah,” Aikan confirmed. “He’s not on very good terms with many of the officers in the city. They disagree with him about some things.”

I gasped. “You know?”

Aikan frowned. “Yes, I do. The question is, how do you know?”

The truth is a very dangerous beast. 

“I, uh…heard it through the grapevine” I said, because that was the best thing I could think of. 

“Huh.”

“Yeah” I muttered. “It’s common knowledge, isn’t it?”

Aikan nodded. “I guess it is. The local newspaper - the Ketchum Kronicle - it runs articles almost every week about the latest developments in their rift. I don’t know what’s coming between them, but it’s probably not good.”

I gulped. “What are you thinking might happen?”

“Well, like I said,” the Tepig continued, “I don’t know. But we’ll have to fasten our seatbelts, grab the Rapidashs’ reins tightly, or whatever metaphor you want to use. Because it;s going to be a wild ride.”

Not long after that, our check came. Aikan promised to pay it in full.

“You’re too kind,” I said.

Aikan nodded. But once the waiter was out of earshot, he shrugged. “It’s not like you have any Poké, since you’ve just arrived here. Working as punishment doesn’t give you any cash.”

“So we’re basically slaves down here” I said.

“I mean, yeah. But again, you just have to accept that you were born in the underworld as opposed to the surface. It’s not as nice here as it is there - they tell stories about how bright it is and whatnot. But…”.

“But what?”

“Nothing” Aikan replied, setting a pawful of notes on the table. “I mean, they can live however they want up there. It’s none of our business. But from what I’ve heard, they really have ruined it, so again, being from the underworld is a blessing in disguise. Be grateful for it, okay, Owen?”

As we left the restaurant to go our separate ways, I couldn’t help but appreciate the irony, even if it wasn’t a funny sort of irony, that Aikan talked to me as though I were from another realm within this underworld. 

Oh, how wrong he is.

(Insert a horizontal line here)

 

I got lost on multiple occasions heading back to the guild hall. The city’s layout was just so confusing that even orienting yourself in one direction didn’t help much - it was basically luck that I finally found the right road.

By the time I arrived at the decaying building that was the guild hall, it must have been pretty late. Of course, it’s not like there was anything that could really be used as a barometer for how late it was.

All I know is that when I stepped over the threshold, Theseus was waiting for me, his front limbs crossed over themselves. 

It didn’t take a social genius to know what that meant. He wasn’t pleased.

“Come with me,” he muttered testily. “To my office.”

I blinked. It hadn’t occurred to me that Theseus might have an office, but if he was our leader, then I guess it made sense.

More importantly, I was in trouble. Big trouble. And Theseus would make sure I knew it.

I wordlessly followed the Umbreon down a hallway into which I’d never ventured. Up until now, I’d never had a reason to. 

This could have just been me, but it seemed even dustier here than on the stairwell. By this time I no longer sneezed my head off when I came across a moderate amount of it, but it was still highly unpleasant at best.

This gives off high school vibes, I thought bitterly. That is, after all, exactly what Theseus’ office reminded me of.

The Umbreon sat in a swivel chair behind his desk. I didn’t even ask where that swivel chair had come from - most of the chairs here seemed to be bolted to the ground.

“So where were you?” Theseus enquired, banging a paw against the table for emphasis. 

“Uh…” I began. “It’s not important.”

“What do you mean, it’s not important?” the Umbreon bellowed. “I would argue that it’s highly consequential, whatever reason you have for coming back late. It’s a potential security risk - a serious one - if our residents are unaccounted for.”

“Fine” I muttered, knowing that I wouldn’t be able to get out of this one. “I went out to dinner with a colleague.”

“Why?” Theseus asked. “I wouldn’t expect you to develop such a bond with one of your co-workers in the mines.”

“Then you wouldn’t get it,” I told him. “I guess we bonded over the work.”

“Perhaps you did, but next time you’re going to be away, won’t you let us know beforehand? We thought you might have been captured by the police or something - maybe they decided to disappear you.”

I grimaced. “That’s a thing?”

“Oh, yes,” Theseus confirmed gravely. “It happens a lot to random residents of Ketchum. They’re never seen again, though I suspect most of them got Banished to the Second Level.”

“For what crimes?”

“Who knows? Probably sometimes it’s for nothing at all. They just want to scare us so that we stay in line.”

“Then why do you tolerate that?” I enquired. “Really. You have options, you know - you don’t have to…”. 

I was going to finish that sentence thusly: You don’t have to subject yourself to that possibility. But Theseus shook his head feverishly.

“On the contrary,” the Umbreon replied sadly, “we don’t have any options. That’s just the way it is down here.”

I sighed, ashamed at my own naivety.

“Are you going to punish me for being away?” I asked eventually. That was the million-dollar question on my mind.

“No,” Theseus said quietly. “But this can’t happen again.”

“Right” I stated.

It was then that the urge to tell my story became overpowering. I tried digging my quartet of heels into the chair, but that didn’t work. Not well enough.

“You look uncomfortable,” Theseus asserted.

“Not really. I guess it’s just about what I did today. I didn’t think about how you all would feel - I should have thought it through a bit more.”

“Yeah,” the Umbreon replied. “You should have.”

“But that’s not all,” I continued. “There’s something else I need to tell you. And you’re not going to believe me.”

Theseus sighed. “I don’t have much time - I’m a busy Umbreon, you know?”

“I know,” I told him. ”But this is important, trust me.”

“I’m listening.”

There’s no turning back now. He will expect to know exactly what I’m talking about. What secrets I’ve been keeping from all of them.

“Okay,” I began. “The truth is, I’m not from the underworld.”

Theseus nodded. “Where are you from, then?”

With a deep sigh, I replied: “The surface.”

It was absolutely too late to get cold paws. I needed to tell him everything now, or else he’d be tempted to hound me for the missing information. Like a roller coaster at the top of a hill, there was nowhere to go but down.

Theseus gasped. “You’re from the surface?”

I nodded. “I woke up in a carriage one morning, which was taking us to the police station right outside this city’s cavern. I was with my younger brother, Matty.”

“You’ve got a brother?” Theseus asked incredulously. “Then where is he?”

He probably already knows the answer to that. At least, he can guess what the answer is.

“I’ll get to that” I stated. “We were interviewed by Sheriff Buckle’s assistants.”

“Deputies” Theseus corrected me.

“Right, deputies. Anyway, they interviewed us separately, and then they brought us back together and announced that I’d be allowed to enter the city.”

Theseus nodded; he was a good listener, I’ll give him that.

“And your brother? Matty? What happened to him?”

Tears filled my eyes as I replied.

“He’s still in there, Theseus. At least, as far as I know” I replied, sniffling as surely as I had while the allergies still plagued me relentlessly. If he isn’t still there, maybe they Banished him. I don’t even want to think about that.

Theseus, too, sniffed. “I’m sorry, Owen,” he told me softly. “I understand that this must be very difficult for you - “.

“You don’t know half of it,” I responded. “He’s my brother. And…I think it’s my fault that he’s still locked up.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Well…” I began. “Liz - Sheriff Buckle’s deputy - she was pretty forceful in terms of getting questions from me. She just doesn’t let up.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Theseus admitted. “I’ve lived here my whole life.”

“But there’s more,” I continued. I’d debated internally whether it would be a good idea to inform the Umbreon about what I’d overheard between the two law enforcement officials the other day, but those three words were the tipping point.

Theseus shrugged. “Continue.”

“The other day, on my way back from work, I heard Sheriff Buckle talking to Officer Pratt - you know, the one who arrested us not long ago.”

“Trust me,” Theseus muttered, “I am very familiar with Officer Pratt.”

“Well,” I continued, “it seemed like Officer Pratt was planning something. He mentioned sending a biological weapon up to the surface.”

That got his attention as surely as though I’d clapped right in front of his face. Theseus’ red eyes were now extremely wide, his pupils dilated as far as they’d go.

“They’re going to do that?” he asked.

I nodded. “At least, that’s what Officer Pratt proposed.

“Pratt’s all talk and no action, as far as I’m concerned” Theseus asserted. “He’s not actually going to send some lethal virus up to the surface.”

“But could he?” I wondered aloud. Theseus seemed to be dismissing such a threat, and then I realized: Maybe he wants that to happen.

Well, I don’t. It doesn’t matter what humans have done to the environment - they don’t deserve this plague.

“I mean, yeah, I guess he could. They have channels through which they can reach the surface. But that’s not - I don’t think Officer Pratt would actually go through with it.”

“Maybe not, Theseus” I conceded. “But surely it’s worth taking seriously?”

The Umbreon grimaced. “Well,” he continued, “the humans haven’t been kind to their surroundings on the surface. They keep telling us in the Book of Catastrophes - “.

“Fuck your Book of Catastrophes.”

Theseus glared at me. “If you said that in church, or in any public place down here, you’d get a one-way ticket on the train to somewhere - and that somewhere is the Second Level.”

I sighed. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Oh, I know I’m right. It’s common knowledge down here. In any case, we’re always told that humans are the scum of the Earth. That’s treated as an axiom down here - why should we care what happens to them?”

I flinched at hearing just how casually Theseus dismissed the potential suffering of billions of people. And to think that I’d seen him as a friend up to this point!

“But you don’t think they deserve death and suffering, do you?” I remarked, because I honestly needed to know that.

Theseus sighed. “I really don’t know what to believe, Owen. That’s the truth. I don’t know if I’d be able to tell you anything else.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I’m asking you whether you think genocide is acceptable or not. That’s an easy, yes or no question.”

“It isn’t.”

“Yes, it is” I insisted.

The Umbreon sighed again. “Look,” he responded, “I do not know if this plan, if it comes to pass, would amount to genocide. There’s a world of difference.”

“Killing so many civilians would be genocide, Theseus!” I exclaimed, not caring how many others heard me. 

“Yes, but you could argue that they’re not civilians at all. If you colonize Earth and deplete its resources, then ruin it any way you can, are you a civilian?”

I could tell there was no arguing with him. Theseus was set in his opinion about this, and for the first time I began to picture in realistic terms what it would be like once we were no longer friends. Once I’d lost one of the precious few connections I had down here.

“Look,” I began, aiming to steer the conversation away from the question of whether decimating the human population would qualify as a genocide. “If I wanted to get back to the surface to…to warn the public about what’s coming…”.

“You couldn't,” Theseus asserted. “The general public is not allowed to use those channels to get to the surface.”

I frowned, though my heart was sinking like a stone. “So you’re saying…”.

“That there’s no way up?” he asked. “Yes, Owen, I am in fact saying that. The only way out of Ketchum, if you’re not an elite like the police here, is further down. To the Second Level.”

An even deeper grave. But is that actually a grave?

“But what’s in the Second Level, anyway?” I asked, morbid curiosity seizing me and refusing to let me budge.

“If I told you that,” Theseus told me, “you’d beg to stay here at all costs.”

“But I want to know,” I said. “I want the truth, Theseus, no matter how painful. I can handle it - trust me.”

The Umbreon sighed. 

“Well, they tell us a lot of stories about what it’s like down there. Truth be told, I’ve almost become numb to all of it. But, by all accounts, it’s a horrifying place. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy, let alone you.”

That’s nice. Theseus doesn’t consider me his enemy.

“So in other words,” I replied, “what you’re telling me is that I’m better off staying in Ketchum for the rest of my natural life.”

Theseus nodded, confirming that fear. But I wasn’t done yet.

“I can’t accept that,” I muttered. “I can’t leave my brother hanging - it’s my fault he’s still in that cell. And I can’t leave those I love on the surface at risk either.”

The Umbreon sighed, closed his eyes, and shook his head. 

“Some things,” he responded, “you just have to come to terms with. That’s the secret to surviving down here, but then, it’s hardly a secret if it’s common knowledge.”

I banged a fist on the table, nearly losing my precarious balance between my chair and the desk at which Theseus sat.

“Theseus,” I all but bellowed, “I am going to make it back to the surface if it’s the last thing I do.”

(Insert a horizontal line here)

 

MATTY’S POV

 

I’d initially started with the calisthenics in order to remain occupied. That was my best shot at keeping my sanity intact.

But it wasn’t working. Not well enough. I woke up one “morning” and wasn’t sure how many times I’d gone to sleep. 

Maybe next time Sheriff Buckle enters my room, I thought bitterly, I’ll confront him about this. I’ll let him know that he’s going to pay for deceiving me about how long I’ve spent in this cell.

Of course, the fact remained that I had very little power over the Cinccino. Nor was I convinced that my mental energy would be sufficient to even remember such a simple plan. My brain was doing exactly what my parents had once claimed too much TV would do to it - it was turning to mush.

The next time Sheriff Buckle came over with a pitiful meal, I bared my fangs at him. Of course, by this time my previously muscular body had likely wasted away to the point that I was no longer as imposing a figure as I’d once been. (But let’s be honest; was an Eevee attack ever a threatening prospect?)

Anyway, when the sheriff deposited the plate in front of me, I blurted the following out: “How long have I been here?”

The Cinccino shrugged. “Time is difficult here, Matthew Eevee.”

“Not for you it isn’t,” I insisted. “You know how long it’s been. You’re just keeping it from me out of spite.”

Sheriff Buckle gritted his fangs. “Well, Matthew, this is on a need-to-know basis.”

I rolled my eyes. How many times had I heard those words said in such a condescending manner?

Well, he didn’t seem eager to spend any more time with me. Quite literally, he’d locked me up and thrown away the key.

Once the door to my cell was shut with a bang, I thought I heard something on the other side.

My bushy tail stood on end. Normally, my cell was soundproof, or close to it. I should not have been able to hear any noise from outside it at all, let alone what sounded like a shouting match even from here.

One of the voices was clearly Sheriff Buckle. “You don’t understand!” he exclaimed. “We’re not going to do that!”

“Well, why the hell not?” another voice, this one clearly belonging to a female figure, bellowed. 

“I’ve explained it before,” Sheriff Buckle asserted. “I don’t know how many times I have to get it through that thick head of yours - we want a peaceful unification with the human race.”

“But the humans will not settle for peace with us,” the female said. “They’re constantly at war not just with the natural world, but also with themselves. Why should we trust them at all?”

“Maybe not,” the sheriff admitted. “But let me tell you, Liz - it’s much better to avoid killing more humans than necessary. The virus may have already been released…”.

“So what if it was?” Liz retorted, and then I realized that it was the same Liz who had interrogated me all that time ago. They’re talking about a virus, and not the type that infects computers. The kind that infects people.

“If the virus was released and has been affecting the human race,” Sheriff Buckle continued, “there’s only so much we can do to de-escalate the situation. Unless you’re proposing that we create a more lethal virus than the one we already have. I’m sure Officer Pratt would love that.”

“I’m sure he would,” Liz echoed.

“The point is, Liz, the virus that has (or may have) already been released - “.

“It has been released, Sheriff.”

Sheriff Buckle gasped, and so did I.

The virus has been released. Is this going to be another pandemic all over again? I wouldn’t want people put through that - the horrors of COVID should not be repeated. They must not be repeated.

“How do you know that the virus has been released? Have you been checking the feeds?”

“Yes. Reports of a mysterious ‘brain flu’ have been circulating around the United States. That country is currently the epicenter of the disease, though it is expected to spread more widely as time goes on.”

So it will be a pandemic. The cat - the Meowth - is out of the bag.

“This virus,” Liz continued, “is not terribly deadly. Patients mostly just need supportive care until the illness runs its course. Some will need hospital treatment, though, and even if it’s only a small percentage, if the disease becomes widespread…”.

“They’ll need to flatten the curve,” Sheriff Buckle concurred. “And then…”.

“It’ll create a little chaos,” Liz replied. “That’ll be just enough for us to move in and take what is rightfully ours. It’s not even stealing, because that word implies that those being taken from have dominion over what is being taken.”

So they’re going to sicken the world with a plague. “Create a little chaos”, as they say. And what can I do about it?

There’s something about being locked in a room with chalky walls, an underground jail cell in fact, that can make someone feel completely and utterly powerless. 

It was no secret, of course, that Sheriff Buckle held immense hard power over me. But the power asymmetry wasn’t just because he was so strong, but because I found myself incredibly diminished and depleted.

“I mean, this seems like a pretty extreme step,” the Cinccino responded. “Do we really have to sicken the world before we take it over? And shouldn’t we try to use persuasion rather than force, for that matter? Isn’t it better to be loved than feared?”

“It’s already been released” Liz stated sharply. “How many times do I have to say that to get through that thick skull of yours?”

There was some stomping outside the door, and for a brief moment, I felt tempted to make a getaway. It wouldn’t last long, of course, and the retaliation I faced later would surely be swift and severe. But the desire for freedom, the longing every human (actually, Pokémon, I corrected myself) faces to be as free as a bird doesn’t get stomped away easily.

If I’m going to bolt, I have to do it now. Maybe they wouldn’t catch me - it’s pretty dark out there, is it not?

“Liz!” Sheriff Buckle barked. “How dare you imply that I’m an idiot?”

“You’ve said some idiotic things lately,” Liz replied, “but that doesn’t mean you’re an idiot. It’s just like what those people on Earth claim to believe, that every person is more than the worst thing they’ve ever done.”

If they truly believed that, they’d let me go be with my brother. And they wouldn’t unleash another pandemic upon the surface.

“It’s all a bunch of Tauros manure,” Sheriff Buckle muttered. “Or, in other words, bullshit. Humans don’t actually think that, so why should we?”

“Exactly!” Liz replied, and I heard the sound of someone clapping. “That’s exactly why we need to punish the surface-dwellers! They need to reap what they’ve sown!”

The argument ended soon thereafter, and seconds later, Sheriff Buckle entered my room again, officially closing my window to escape. (Though, admittedly, that window hadn’t been very wide to begin with, assuming I could have worked up the courage to go through with that plan.)

“Hello” I told him in a singsong voice. In hindsight, I’m not sure why I felt it was even worth the effort.

“You have barely touched your food” Sheriff Buckle noted with a snarl. “Why, don’t you like it?”

I narrowed my eyes and showed my fangs. “Just because I’ve been eating it,” I retorted, “doesn’t mean I’ve been liking it.”

“Maybe not,” Sheriff Buckle responded, “but you could at least try to be appreciative of all that we’ve done for you.”

Suddenly I pictured my parents falling sick, struck down by the bioweapon and suffering needlessly, and that only made me angrier.

“What, exactly, have you people done for me?”

“We put you up in this very nice room,” the Cinccino asserted. “We feed you three meals a day.”

“Three meals of this shit” I muttered. Then, with a humorless snort: “Are you joking?”

“What is this supposed to be, a five-star hotel? Give me a break!”

“No, give me a break!” I bellowed. “I just want to see my brother! Owen!”

Sheriff Buckle raised an eyebrow. “Why would you want to see your brother? Didn’t Owen betray you? Isn’t he the reason you’re in this supposedly-awful room instead of partying with him in the city?”

“Oh, I’ve got no love for Owen” I insisted. “He was willing to throw me under the bus to save his own ass. In fact, that’s why I want to see him!”

“Because you want to scream and shout at him for framing you?” 

Honestly, I don’t know. I just want to know why he did all that. And yeah, I want to see him again because he’s my brother. I owe him that much - he owes me that much. Maybe, deep down, I still care about him.

Obviously, I didn’t say any of that out loud - it wouldn’t have rolled off my tongue so easily. Instead, after a few seconds of improvisation, this is what I said:

“Yes. That’s exactly what I want to do.”

“Take vengeance against your own brother?” Sheriff Buckle enquired. “That’s pretty bold of you, Matthew.”

“Maybe it is.”

“Whatever. Enjoy your meal” the Cinccino muttered, slamming the door. This time, I heard his stomping footsteps getting fainter - he wasn’t going to stick around.

I glanced at my meager meal. I could have sworn that whatever that “food” was, it was genetically engineered to make you hungrier after you ate it. It was literally worth less than nothing in terms of sustenance. My stomach was hollower than an empty cask of wine.

Still, I knew that if I didn’t eat the food item, I would only arouse more suspicion from my captors, so down the hatch it went.

Once I’d finished, I left the empty plate where it was. I was almost always asleep when the plates were collected; perhaps this was by design so that I wouldn’t be able to ask Sheriff Buckle any questions about the outside world during my periods of wakefulness.

Indeed, I realized too late that I’d missed my chance to confront the sheriff about the virus. If this somehow led to more deaths than necessary, I wouldn’t be alive to live with myself any longer.

And yet, as I cast my gaze around the white, chalky walls of my cell, I kept remembering that I only had one person to live with now.

That was me.